


New Lights

by Amettrine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, this is ancient and i'm gay so take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amettrine/pseuds/Amettrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun usually hurts his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Lights

There’s light in him. It’s a blue sky, cloudless and wide and endlessly bright, summer sunshine with no shade in sight and he can’t look away. He knows, somehow, that he won’t get burned. He knows that the beams aren’t harsh; they’re warming and energizing, a force composed of only purity and love. There’s an innocence, a certain excitement about him at all times. He bounces and jumps with limitless stamina, endurance knowing no end as he runs and runs and runs. He can’t keep up but watching him is enough, he thinks.  
At night he sees stars in his eyes. He doesn’t know if they’re just reflections, or if the little lights that flicker there are a part of who he is. No, he thinks, they’d be a part of him nonetheless; he absorbs everything around him and sends it back twice as much. He sees galaxies shining where the blackness of his pupils should be, sees an expanse of stars and life and light that never before has been such an important part of his existence. The smile on his face when he closes his star-filled eyes lights up dark rooms, all reds and yellows and warmth that seeps to his very core and brings them closer together.  
He’s used to red, but not in this way. He’s used to red as power and strength, blood in veins that keeps a brain alive. He sees red now when he closes his eyes under the sun, relishing in how it wears not unpleasantly on his closed eyes. It’s different than how it was before, no longer an annoyance that makes him wince or hide his eyes. It was like that when they first met, all one-sided conversations led on by single-word responses that the boy with hair like sunshine found to be more than enough. There was something infectious about those oranges and reds, like the way your chest fills up when you look at a field of wildflowers or a sunset in a place you’ve never been. Like parades, like kites framed and contrasting against a bluer than blue sky.  
It makes his head feel empty and full at the same time, clear and yet still impossibly fuzzy. Each touch between them, whether it be an accidental brush of fingers or moving hair to fully see wide eyes, it lights up the space between them. Nothing else matters when he’s with him; anything they talk about, they talk about and think through together– it always gains a new meaning, a new brightness that makes him see everything differently. They fit together, one smoothing out and calming down rough winds, the other blowing out stale air and bringing in new life.  
He loves him, he thinks.


End file.
